


The Ivory Tower

by EmieB123



Series: The Darkest Night Will End [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: M/M, i have no idea what im doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-18 01:22:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmieB123/pseuds/EmieB123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Les Amis go to New Orleans to expose a corrupt politician.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to write a thing in New Orleans sorry  
> Also I'm pulling titles out of my ass it'll hopefully make sense later  
> I'm working on about 4 different parts of this story right now, all out of order of course, so I'll try to update regularly

Eponine and Grantaire walked in 20 minutes late to the meeting. Really they couldn’t be expected to be on time when they’d been out all night celebrating her first paycheck by blowing it all on booze. Enjolras glared but said nothing as they took their seats.

“We suspect that Daniel Jackson is buying votes, among a dozen other minor offenses. He’s a grade A douchebag, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find evidence and get him out of office.”

Eponine listened for a few minutes before raising her hand “So what exactly are we doing?”

Enjolras huffed “Well if you were here on time, you’d know.”

Combeferre stepped in. “You, Enjolras, Grantaire, Joly and Courfeyrac are flying down to New Orleans to find proof that Jackson is corrupt.” 

Grantaire raised an eyebrow “Wait, why am I going?”

“Bahorel’s disappeared again.”

“Well when he stumbles back tell him he’d better bring me next time.” Grantaire grumbled.

“And aren’t you from there? I thought you’d appreciate a visit home.” 

“When are we leaving?” Courf asked. He at least looked excited to visit for a few days. But then he’d always had it better off than Grantaire. 

“Friday morning.” It was Wednesday. 

“Shit, Enj, a little warning might’ve been nice.”

“Consider yourself warned. Go pack.” Enjolras said curtly. “Courf and Eponine, I need to see you both before you go.”

They followed him into his office. “Courf, you know what you need?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking serious for once. “You didn’t really give me time to prepare.”

“We’ve been talking about it for weeks -“

“Yes, but we were just talking about it, there was no real planning done.”

“I have a plan.” 

“Care to share with the class, then?” Courfeyrac looked pissed. 

Enjolras sighed “Get R and Joly, we’ll go over it.”

Once everyone was gathered in the office, Enjolras pulled out a blueprint. “Eponine, you’ll get us in. His office is on the third floor. Courf can you hack into the security cams?”

“I find it highly offensive you even need to ask.”

“Good. Then Joly, you’ll stay in the car and keep watch while we go in.” Joly nodded. “Once we reach the office, Courf you get into his computer, Grantaire and I will see what else we can find.”

They spent the rest of the day working out the details. Well, Courf and Enjolras worked out the details- Eponine and Grantaire were listening to Joly list what they should bring medicine-wise. 

“Painkillers, bandages, I’m sure someone will need patching up by the end of this. Maybe allergy pills? It’s not the season but just in case, Enjolras with allergies is terrifying.” He shuddered.

“Eponine, what do you need to get us in?” 

Eponine pulled the blueprints towards her. “The alarm system is almost identical to Valjean’s, it should be a piece of cake. I just need to get the gear from Claquesous.”

Grantaire was shaking his head. “Are you insane? Going to any of the Patron-Minette is a bad idea when you’re on their good side, and you are most definitely on their bad side.”

That was true, Eponine had been getting calls from ‘Parnasse since she left. Of course she’d taken none of them and they’d gradually stopped, but she had no doubt he held a grudge. A quite possibly deadly one at that.

“It’s the only way to get in. I still have his number and if I’m careful I might be able to convince him not to go to ‘Parnasse.”

“That’s a very big if, Ep.” Grantaire warned. “If Montparnasse catches wind of this he’ll-“

“I know what he’ll do” Eponine snapped. “It’s my skin, my decision.” 

“Fine.” Grantaire muttered. “You got a death wish, go right ahead.”

Enjolras was watching with interest. “You’re sure this Claquesous can get what you need?” 

Eponine nodded. 

“Then call him. But you aren’t going alone.” 

“Right” Grantaire crossed his arms, “I’m going with her.”

Eponine shook her head. “You go, you’ll get shot. You didn’t just piss off Montparnasse when you left.”

“The TV didn’t belong to him anyway,” Grantaire protested, “He stole it!”

Eponine couldn’t help but smirk “And then you stole it from him.”

“He deserved it!”

Eponine gave him that one. “You still shouldn’t come.”

“I’m not leaving you alone with him.”

“She won’t go alone. Combeferre and I will go with her.”

Grantaire hesitated, Enjolras didn’t inspire much fear. Well not until he started talking, then he was terrifying. Combeferre was all around intimidating though. He slowly nodded. “Fine. But if she gets hurt, it’s on your head.” He walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Enjolras looked after him for a moment, expression unreadable. “Call him.”

They arranged a meeting the following afternoon. Claquesous agreed not to tell Montparnasse for a large sum of money, but Enjolras didn’t even blink.

 

“Ready to come crawling back?” Claquesous smirked, leaning on his car. He was an ordinary-looking man, but Eponine knew one wrong move would end with a bullet in someone’s head. 

“You got the stuff?” The quicker they got out of here, the better.

“Course. Where’s the money?” 

Enjolras held up a paper bag. 

“Well, hand it over.”

“You first.” Enjolras didn’t trust him. 

Claquesous laughed, “Don’t play this game with me, pretty boy.” Enjolras bristled at the name “Here’s how it’s gonna go, you’re going to give me the cash and once I’m sure you didn’t cheat me then you get the gear.”

Enjolras looked like he was going to argue but Eponine elbowed him. “Just do what he says.” She hissed.

Claquesous sneered as Enjolras grudgingly handed over the bag. He counted through it before throwing a small duffel bag in their direction. 

“Now get lost.” He grunted. 

“No problem”, Eponine linked her arms with Enjolras and Combeferre as they walked back to the car. “Get ready to run.” She warned and she felt them tense.

“What are you-“

“Grantaire says the TV works fine!” She called over her shoulder and started running, pulling them behind her when she heard Claquesous curse. 

She laughed in the car when Enjolras yelled at her for pointlessly pissing off a dangerous criminal. Combeferre, who hadn’t said a word in true Combeferre fashion, was smiling.

“Did you at least get what you need?” Enjolras sat back in his seat with an annoyed huff when he realized no one was listening.

Eponine glanced in the bag “Yep.”

Combeferre was looking at her curiously. “So what did Grantaire do, besides leaving Patron-Minette, that made Claquesous hate him so much?”

Even Enjolras was listening with interest.

“It’s not for me to tell.” Eponine shifted uncomfortably. “But when he left, he stole something from each of the heads. He stole a new TV from Claquesous.”

“And Montparnasse?” Enjolras leaned forward, eyes boring into her, “What happened there?”

“You’ll have to ask him about that.” Eponine didn’t like thinking about that night, the nights that followed.

Enjolras looked like he was going to pry but a sharp glance from Combeferre was enough to keep him quiet, and they lapsed into uncomfortable silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras and Grantaire fight (what else is new) and Les Amis go sightseeing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out longer than I expected  
> If you're wondering where Marius is, I'm writing his chapter now so expect that soon  
> (I'm writing like 5 chapters right now, all out of order)

Joly was going to kill them both. He just wanted to read his book but of course he was stuck sitting between Grantaire and Enjolras, who were arguing as always. 

“If you just applied yourself-“

“Applied myself? Who are you, my fucking mom?”

“If you just applied yourself” Enjolras ground out, “and stopped trying to get yourself an early grave, you could do great things.”

“Great things.” Grantaire scoffed. “You don’t get to dictate my life choices, Apollo. Me, I’ve always found more fun in living life from day to day and night to night, in finding truth not in eternity but in the minutes and the hours. Fuck, isn’t that a finer goal to strive for than to live forever in some ivory tower? So let me bury myself; you can find someone else to save.” 

That shut him up. Joly glanced at Enjolras nervously- he was completely white, staring at Grantaire with a hurt expression. Joly touched his shoulder and he shook himself, mumbling an excuse and heading to the bathroom.

“Are you okay?” Joly turned to Grantaire who had slumped against the window as soon as Enjolras was out of sight.

“Fine.” Grantaire said tersely, but Joly could see his hands shaking.

The rest of the flight was spent in silence. Enjolras read, but Joly noticed him looking at Grantaire every few minutes, chewing his lip. He wanted to say something, but by the way Grantaire was studiously ignoring him, any attempt to apologize would result in an even bigger argument, and that was not something that should happen in a pressurized metal tube flying thirty thousand feet in the air. 

He could hear Courfeyrac and Eponine laughing two rows back, pleasantly oblivious. 

 

They remained oblivious throughout the terminal and frankly painful car ride; Enjolras stealing worried glances at Grantaire, who was staring out the window. Joly didn’t know how they didn’t notice; or maybe they did and were just trying to ease the tension. By the way Courf leaned over and spoke a few words quietly into Enjolras’ ear before they got in the car and the looks Eponine kept shooting Grantaire, he thought it was the latter. 

As Enjolras was checking them into the hotel, he noticed Eponine and Courf whispering to each other. That could not be good.

As soon as he walked into their room (of course Enjolras didn’t see a problem with 5 adults sharing a two bed room), he realized their plan. He immediately grabbed Courf’s arm and dragged him back into the hall. 

“Don’t do it.”

“Do what?” Courf asked innocently.

Joly sighed. “He will kill you.”

Courf shrugged “Maybe.”

 

The room was tiny. The two beds took up most of the room; there wasn’t even enough room for a couch. That meant bed-sharing. And Eponine and Courfeyrac had already claimed one bed for themselves and Joly. Which meant Enjolras and Grantaire would have to share. Perfect.

Joly could see the moment they realized. Enjolras’ face showed a moment of pure panic before it shut down to his usual stony expression and Grantaire walked out of the room because he was ‘way too fucking sober to deal with this’. 

Courfeyrac ran after him because “He is not going to Bourbon Street alone again.”

Eponine looked on the brink of following them, but after shooting off a few texts, she relaxed on the bed and started flipping through the channels on the TV. Joly carefully sat next to her and after a few minutes of debating between House and Community, Joly stole the remote and put on House. 

It was only 6 pm but flying always made him sleepy. He lasted an episode and a half before he passed out. 

He woke to Courfeyrac wriggling his way between him and Eponine. He sighed and buried his face in Joly’s back. Joly made a half-attempt to swat him off before giving in to Courf’s cuddles. God, he was a cuddly drunk (well he was cuddly sober too, but it was worse drunk). He smelled faintly of alcohol; Joly couldn’t imagine the state Grantaire was in. 

Grantaire was pretty shit-faced. He’d gone down to his old haunts, barely registering Courf trailing behind him. He’d seen a few old drinking buddies, but steered clear, he really wasn’t in the mood for being social. Somehow Courf managed to keep him from drinking himself into a coma and helped him stumble back to the hotel, not saying a word the entire time, something for which Grantaire would be eternally grateful.

Somehow he got out of his clothes after shrugging off Courfeyrac’s help and fell on his side of the bed. He could feel Enjolras tense as he fumbled at getting under the sheets. He sighed and turned his back on Enjolras, one of them might as well get some sleep and if Enjolras was gonna be a tight ass about it, Grantaire was all too happy to take one for the team.

 

He woke up to a face full of blond hair. Enjolras’ blond hair. He yelped and scrambled away, falling off the bed in the process.

“What?” Enjolras woke up, and Grantaire wanted to paint him. Hair mussed from sleep (oh god he had a bedhead. Grantaire did not find that adorable. Definitely not adorable. Okay, it was extremely adorable), eyes unfocused and his face as relaxed as it ever got considering he’d just been woken up by his human pillow shooting across the room. 

Courf, Eponine and Joly were dying laughing from their bed; Joly lost his balance and almost fell before Courf grabbed him.

“I hate you.” Grantaire glared at them. Enjolras had burrowed back into the blankets and had probably fallen back asleep.

They laughed even harder when, still glaring, he grabbed his bag and stomped into the bathroom, the sound of the shower following a few seconds later.

“Who’d you send it to?” Courf looked over Eponine’s shoulder to look at her phone.

She smirked “Pretty much everyone. And Enjolras.”

Courf grinned, “Maybe they’ll finally get their heads out of their asses. The sexual tension is killing me”. He got up and stretched “I’m going get coffee, who wants some?” Everyone wanted some, so Courf waited until Grantaire was finished showering and they all went down together, leaving Enjolras alone with his thoughts. He pulled out his phone; there was a new message from Eponine- a picture. It was him, his face in Grantaire’s neck, R’s head tilted down into his hair. He was half lying on top of him and their legs were tangled under the blankets. 

Shit.

 

Courfeyrac had to (literally) drag Enjolras out of bed. They planned to spend the day sightseeing.

The sky was cloudy but it was still ridiculously hot. And humid, Enjolras could feel himself start sweating as soon as they walked out of the hotel. 

Their first stop was Café du Monde for ‘the most delicious pastries the world has ever had the orgasmic pleasure of tasting’. 

Courfeyrac was almost skipping as they made the 15 minute walk from their hotel to the café. “We’re going to stuff ourselves until we can’t move, then cross over to Jackson Square where Grantaire can fangirl about art and we can duck into the Cathedral, because I know how hot and bothered you get by old buildings, Enjolras” He winked, “Then we can hit up the French Market and Boardwalk on our way to Dragos and the best oysters in the country.”

Grantaire laughed “You do realize we’re breaking into a powerful politician’s private office tonight, right?”

“Don’t be a killjoy. We’ll have plenty of time.” 

By the time they got there, Enjolras felt like he was about to faint. He made a mental note to never wear jeans in south Louisiana ever again. Despite making the smart decision to wear shorts, Eponine and Joly didn’t look much better. Grantaire and Courfeyrac weren’t even sweating.

Enjolras groaned internally when he saw the line, it looked like it stretched around the block.

Courf apparently had connections, though, and led them around to the back, where after a few minutes of waiting a girl with shaggy brown hair met them with a tray of beignets. Courf squealed and grabbed the tray, ignoring the girl who laughed and hugged Grantaire.

“Nice to see you too, C” 

“I’m sorry I love pastries more than you.” He somehow managed to speak despite having shoved an entire beignet in his mouth. “Actually, I’m not sorry.” He closed his eyes and groaned “God, I’ve missed good food.”

She laughed again and Grantaire made the introductions. Maya was a local artist who worked at the café while she was in school. Enjolras liked her, she laughed a lot and stole Courf’s food while she talked to Grantaire. Courf was right, the beignets tasted amazing. Grantaire ended up buying two boxes of mix before Maya’s break was over and they crossed the street to Jackson Square. 

Enjolras couldn’t help but notice the way Grantaire just seemed to fit here. (They still weren’t speaking, and it was torture.) He spoke to the artists with familiarity, although he only knew a few, and admired their work. Enjolras wasn’t much of an art person, and really, watching Grantaire was a thousand times more interesting than looking at the canvas hanging on the fence. 

Grantaire’s favorite was the cathedral. Enjolras had a thing for old buildings, especially churches, and the cathedral was beautiful, although it had nothing on Enjolras when he was like this. Reverently staring up at the painted ceiling, exposing the golden column of his neck- and shit, Grantaire was not thinking of leaving marks on the smooth skin, definitely not (he was in a church for christ’s sake).

They hurried through the French Market, they were all starving. But not before Eponine bought a gaudy hat for Cosette and Courf bought a scarf for Jehan. Grantaire almost bought Enjolras one (as a joke of course, even though he would look stupidly cute in it) before he remembered he was still mad at him. 

 

Things got a little confusing when they tried to find Dragos.

“Look, it says ‘to Dragos’”

“Courf, Dragos is on the ground floor.”

“The sign says it’s this way.”

“Then the sign is wrong.”

Courf ignored him and took the stairs two at a time.

“Okay, the sign may have been wrong.” They were in a large empty hall. Nice carpets though.

“What did I tell you? We must be in the hotel.” Grantaire looked around. “If we can get down to the ground floor, we should be able to find it.”

It took them ten minutes to find the escalator and another fifteen to find the actual restaurant. Worth it though; the oysters were just as good as Grantaire had said. They did have to bribe Eponine to try them though, she said they looked like puke (she ended up loving them and stealing half of Enjolras’). 

“Look I’m sorry about yesterday.” Enjolras leaned around Joly, pretending not to listen.

“It’s fine, Apollo. Nothing I haven’t heard before.” Grantaire smiled at him sadly. Enjolras felt like his heart was breaking.

“So we’re good?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” Grantaire raised his bottle to toast (he wasn’t supposed to be drinking, not with a job tonight, but Enjolras wasn’t going to risk another fight) “To being good!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've never eaten a beignet, you have not lived and need to find one and eat it now   
> And the Dragos thing actually happened to us last time we were there
> 
> And Grantaire's Ivory Tower speech came from Ink by Hal Duncan (which I will be using quite a bit in this fic and you should definitely read)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Les Amis break into a government office  
> It goes as well as you'd expect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive any medical inaccuracies, I'm mostly relying on google here  
> Also I'm thinking puppies next then Marius (not sure when E/R will finally hook up but it's coming)
> 
> And definite pairings are E/R (obviously), Eponine/Cosette, Courf/Jehan and maybe a little Courf/Marius because why not

The plan went off without a hitch. Eponine got them in, and thanks to Joly monitoring from the car they knew about any security in enough time to duck around a corner. Courf downloaded the files to a flashdrive and Enjolras and Grantaire snapped a few pics of some documents they found in the desk.

Everything was going perfectly until:

“Guys, there’s a couple guards heading your way. Fuck. They saw the lights- get out of there.”

Enjolras cursed. “Okay, we’re going. Courf you got everything?”

Courfeyrac nodded “Yeah, let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Grantaire winced “Please, never say that again.”

Thanks to Joly’s directions and Enjolras having memorized the floor plan (really his memory was uncanny) they only got lost twice and managed to steer mostly clear of the guards. 

The problem was when they reached the door only to find it blocked by five guards. 

“If we just run through them, they’ll be too surprised to do anything.”

“Enjolras, they have guns. Guns. Please, listen to the little self-preservation you still possess and let’s find a window.”

After a few more minutes of arguing, they agreed to take a vote. Enjolras was outvoted (obviously) and they were off on their merry way to find a suitable window.

And then they were out. There was just the small problem of the well-lit lawn they had to cross, and really, who needed a lawn like that in front of an office building.

They decided to go with Enjolras’ plan this time, and make a run for it to their car parked across the street where Joly hopefully had the car running. It was a solid plan, haul ass and hope they wouldn’t get shot. Of course it was Enjolras who got shot. 

Well, shot was a strong word. Grantaire had seen worse, so had Eponine- it was a fact of life when you were with Montparnasse that you would see some pretty gruesome shit- and it wouldn’t have shaken him so much if it wasn’t Enjolras who was bleeding all over the backseat of the rental car. Joly was back there with him, doing the whole doctor/hero thing. Courfeyrac was freaking the fuck out and since Eponine was the only one not completely incapacitated by concern for Enjolras’ health (he’d been grazed on the arm, really everyone needed to calm the fuck down) she was driving.

 

It was a little difficult getting back to their room, what with having to support a whiny, bloody, Enjolras up to the third floor. Thankfully, the lobby was deserted and they only passed one drunk girl in the hall before they were safe in the room. Joly settled Enjolras onto the bed and pulled out his med kit.

He managed to cut off his shirt and start cleaning out the wound before he snapped and yelled at Grantaire (Very annoyingly hovering) and Courfeyrac (pacing and babbling) to get the fuck out if they weren’t going to be helpful. Joly actually yelling was enough for them to both leave, muttering apologies. 

Enjolras had his eyes screwed shut; tightly biting down on the belt Joly had shoved in his mouth.

“Eponine, could you call Combeferre for me? He has more experience than me with this sort of thing.” (Combeferre was a certified EMT and was their go-to for any serious injuries.) Joly’s hands were full trying to keep Enjolras still and thread the needle. 

“Sure.” Eponine had stuck around on Joly’s request, she being the only other one in the room not panicking. 

Combeferre picked up on the fifth room. “Hello?”

“Sorry to wake you, but we have a bit of an emergency.”

“Medical?”

“Yep.”

“Put Joly on.”

She put it on speaker.

“Hey, ‘Ferre”

“What happened?”

“Enjolras made himself a target and got a nasty gash on his left lateral bicep, about 2 inches; pretty clean, moderate bleeding- I can send you a pic if you need.”

“Can you just stitch me up already?” Enjolras growled.

“Shut up Enj.” Combeferre snapped “You have the local?”

“Not sure of the dosage.”

“4 milligrams should be good.”

“Gotcha.” Joly pulled a syringe and bottle out of his back and injected Enjolras, ignoring his hiss at the prick of the needle. “Don’t be a baby.”

“I just got shot, I’m allowed to be a bit of a baby!”

Joly rolled his eyes and started stitching. Eponine looked away; she’d seen people being stitched up before, but never by anyone who actually knew what he was doing. 

Half an hour later, Joly was finished.

“Don’t let him do anything stupid. Keep him in bed.” Combeferre yawned.

“Right. Thanks ‘Ferre.” Joly hung up. “You can come in now.” he yelled as he opened the door, Grantaire and Courfeyrac falling in a heap on the floor. 

“Is he okay?” Grantaire couldn’t look at the bed

“Fine, he just needs sleep.” Joly sighed. “Now I’m going out, feel free to join me but someone should stay with him.” Enjolras was passed out on the bed.

Grantaire elected to stay behind while everyone else went out. It was nice, he worked in his sketchbook and watched the man of his dreams sleep. Not creepy at all.

 

“Why do you call me that?” Grantaire started at the voice, he thought Enjolras was still asleep.

“What?”

“Apollo.” He waved a hand weakly in Grantaire’s general direction. Ah, that explained it; he was still loopy from the pain meds Joly had forced him to take. “Why Apollo?”

Grantaire carefully put down his sketchbook, what were the chances of him actually remembering this conversation? Next to nothing, he guessed. “Because you are the sun incarnate. You give off such light; people are drawn to you. You believe so strongly you almost make me think the world has a chance.” He paused looking at Enjolras, “Because you saved me.”

He dropped his eyes, not wanting to see his reaction. 

“Grantaire, look at me.” He tried to fight it, he really did, but when had he ever denied Enjolras anything. 

Grantaire would’ve laughed if Enjolras didn’t look so serious. Well, as serious as possible when hopped up on painkillers. “Why don’t you believe in yourself?”

Grantaire sighed “We’ve had this argument before, Apollo, I’d rather not relive it.”

Enjolras squinted “I just don’t . . . understand how you’re happy believing in nothing.”

Grantaire laughed bitterly. “There are so many things wrong with what you just said. One, happy? Two, what am I supposed to believe in? Your precious people?” He snorted “You realize that all the idiots with the big ideas are just as fucking bad as the rest of them? Fucking wars and revolutions, they’re all the same. Just different ways for men to kill each other.” He drank deeply from his flask and grimaced. “And I don’t believe in nothing. The one thing I do believe in, is you.”

If this were one of the shitty rom-coms Courfeyrac always brought to movie night, they would’ve kissed and got married and lived happily ever after. This was not a shitty rom-com though, and when Enjolras leaned over and kissed him, Grantaire froze.

No. This was not happening. Could not be happening. Why would Enjolras ever want to- holy shit. Enjolras was kissing him. And there was a hand in his hair and fuck was that tongue? Yep, definitely tongue and- no.

Grantaire scrambled away, tripping over a suitcase. “No, no. I can’t. Please, I- You’re“ He babbled and Enjolras looked at him in confusion. He’d been sure Grantaire liked him at least a little.

Grantaire backed into the bathroom, bumping into the bed on the way, and slammed the door behind him. Fuck.

When Eponine, Courfeyrac and Joly returned, they found Grantaire locked in the bathroom and Enjolras stubbornly pretending to be asleep. Joly checked his stitches while Courfeyrac talked quietly with Grantaire (how he’d convinced R to let him in, they’d never know). That night Joly slept with Enjolras while Grantaire was squished between Eponine and Courfeyrac.

“I fucked up.” Joly almost missed the whispered confession. Not sure what to say, Joly simply rested a comforting hand on his friends shoulder until he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This bit:  
> "You realize that all the idiots with the big ideas are just as fucking bad as the rest of them? Fucking wars and revolutions, they’re all the same. Just different ways for men to kill each other.”  
> I modified from Hal Duncan's novel Ink which I highly recommend reading
> 
> My tumblr is andwhatdowesaytodeath and I apologize for my excessive use of the notes
> 
> (I'm also having issues with italics. If something sounds like it should be italicized than it probably should be, ao3 is just not cooperating)


End file.
